


Sinful

by am_bellanoire



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poetic, Seven Deadly Sins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-07-15 11:32:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16062227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/am_bellanoire/pseuds/am_bellanoire
Summary: An erotic Bellamione one-shot in 7 sinful parts





	1. Lust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RedSneakers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedSneakers/gifts), [Zarrene Moss (Menzosarres)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menzosarres/gifts).



> I've taken a bit of a hiatus, dealing with familial matters, job matters and such. But after many kind words from my readers as well as a delectable one-shot from one of my favorite Bellamione authors, I decided what the hell. This has been sitting in my computer for months and I'm finally publishing it. Inspired by the seven deadly sins, this is a one-shot in seven parts. Updates on my WIPs will be coming as soon as I can write them, but while you're all waiting, hopefully this will sooth the burn. Enjoy ^_^

**Lust**

_“I could have every single inch of your body pressed tightly against mine and I would still say, 'pull me closer...'”_

* * *

 

“ _Yes_ ,” she whimpers as full crimson lips ravage her pulse point, “G _od_ yes.”

Skilled hands map a route they have taken a thousand times before, gripping, grasping. Pulling the quivering, swooning body closer to her own. Relishing in the desire, smug at the evident submission. So close, twin hearts pound in unison. So close, breath co-mingles. So close that she might be able to count each individual strand of fluttering eyelashes.

A throaty purr rumbles from a pale throat and fingers clench tighter, nearly hard enough to bruise soft, yielding sides. “Let me hear you, pet. Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

“ _Bella_ ,” the word is uttered on a gasp for air, desperate and needy. Wanting and completely shameless. With a note of exasperation. Almost a beg, but not quite. No, her lioness isn't so quick to concede. She will need a little more coaxing. “Don't tease.”

“ _Don't tease_ ,” Bellatrix mimics, her voice pitched high and cutting, a dark chuckle following in its wake as she frees a hand from its vise-grip elsewhere and brushes a damp chestnut lock of hair from a flushed peaches and cream face. Her tone changes as if a switch has been flipped, going from mocking to sultry and lustful. A lethal growl. “You have no idea of what I am going to do to you. _Hermione_.”

The threat, for it is uttered in a way that cannot be received as anything but, coupled with the rarely used first name evokes a full body shudder in the brunette she holds in her arms. Verily, if her hold wasn't so all encompassing, the younger witch might have melted into a puddle right at her feet. And that would have suited the dark witch just fine. She would have pieced her back together and still proceeded with the merciless torture she planned to dish out.

Screams of pain were almost indiscernible from screams of pleasure. And Bellatrix wants to hear screams. With her fingers, she is the maestro and she will not rest until she conducts a discordant symphony of screams.

“I _want_ you,” she murmurs, her lips tracing the shell of Hermione's ear as she whispers, “I want you so badly, it _hurts_.” It is true. The desire she feels for the younger witch is like an ache. A burn. It consumes, it spreads monstrously through her like a prowling beast, throbbing between her legs. And she wants nothing more than to reciprocate the feeling.

“Then take me,” Hermione mewls, pressing herself even closer to the dark witch, threading her fingers expertly though a mess of thick, tangled curls, “Take me, Bella. I'm yours.” Because she is hers. In every sense of the word. Has been for years and would always be. So long as time continues to be kind. As royally fucked up as it is, considering their past, the dark witch has her mind, body, and soul. But surely that is the foolish Gryffindor heart within in her. Beating bravely until the end. And Bellatrix could have ended her, a thousand times over. She has looked death in the eye more times than she can count and for Merlin's sake, is still living to tell the tale. Even if now, at this very moment, she is sure she might die if the pressure at the apex of her thighs isn't released somehow in someway. Preferably at the former Death Eater's hand.

Bellatrix's nostrils flare, a sharp inhale drawn in as if taking in the very essence of the witch in her arms, breathing in her wanton arousal and using it to fuel her lust. “Oh I _will_ ,” she hums, the words a drawl of nonchalance that might have been believed if not for the ardent fingers and sharp nails embedding themselves into supple flesh, drawing gasping moans that are absorbed by a sinful mouth, “I'm going to take and take until you've nothing left to give, pet. _That_ I promise.”

And for as deadly, as dangerous, and as dastardly a witch the wizarding world has made her out to be, she has never been in the habit of making promises she did not intend to keep.

 


	2. Gluttony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos, you guys are the best! Comments are and would be greatly appreciated!

**Gluttony**

_"I hunger for you. Feel me as my mouth slowly works its way down your body and tastes you. You are my favorite flavor..."_

* * *

For as petite as she is, Bellatrix is nearly impossibly strong and she uses this strength to scoop Hermione into her arms as if she weighs hardly more than a feather. A sharp gasp is wrenched from the former Gryffindor's throat as she is unceremoniously deposited in the center of a large four poster, bouncing once as she lands upon the duvet. She has no time to berate her lover for being so brutish however as Bellatrix all but launches herself after Hermione and proceeds to pick up where she left off.

That decadent mouth that could be so expressive, so petulant, so malicious, so cruel, so pleasurable catches and swallows any form of protest as her hands make quick and rough work of Hermione's offensive clothes. Fabric tears, buttons pop and scatter, heated skin is revealed. The brunette cries out as she and her lover are finally unimpeded by any barriers, Bellatrix's touch torrid, scalding. She can feel herself beginning to smolder and knows that before long, she will burn.

Open mouthed kisses trail from jawline to neck column, down to collar bone. The blunt edges of strong teeth nip harshly only to have the sting soothed by a wicked tongue. " _Hush_  pet. I've hardly even touched you."

Not yet.

Hermione scoffs at the order but the sound is a breathless one. Bellatrix does not mean it. She likes the sounds she makes, relishes in them. All the statement is is a dominance play for they both know the younger witch won't stay quiet, she wouldn't even try. She is a responsive lover, bowing and breaking beneath Bellatrix's savage pleasure, crying out her ecstasy until her voice is rendered hoarse. In the very beginning she had been shy, not comfortable with the complete surrender being fucked by this dark, carnal creature required. She had bloodied her own lips with the effort it took trying to stifle herself many times. But times have changed.

And that is made evident as Bellatrix blazes a scorching path down her lover's naked body. The brunette does nothing at all to  _hush_ when her legs are spread apart and draped over a pair of narrow shoulders because she knows what's coming next. Without warning or preamble, Bellatrix's head of outrageous curls is between her thighs and that mouth, that tongue isn't more so licking than _devouring_. Like a starved animal complete with  _obscene_  slurping sounds and deep, rumbling moans of satisfaction.

"Oh my  _god_ ," Hermione sobs, threading her fingers through that oceanic mass of sable coils, tugging tight enough that somewhere in the back of her mind she knows it must hurt. But she doesn't care, so long as Bellatrix stays where she is. And she does. Like the glutton she is, Bellatrix continues her ravenous assault, pulling the oh so sensitive pearl of her lover's sex between her lips as her tongue provides just the right amount of steady pressure she knows the girl favors. Her hands grip trembling legs hard enough to bruise the skin, keeping them open, keeping this delicious treasure completely accessible.

"Bella,  _damn_  it _,_ Bella, I- I'm going to come," the brunette cries out desperately, her tone seeming on the verge of tears. Her body tenses as if she is trying to fight the impending climax. It's too soon. She wants to draw it out, make the moment last. But Bellatrix, as she can be, is  _ruthless_. The words spur her on rather than slow her down, and she lets out a guttural snarl of triumph once she feels the rapid fluttering beneath her mouth signaling orgasm. Her eardrums throb at the throaty wails that ring out in time with each pulse.

Hermione is reduced to a quivering, gasping mess, releasing her hold on the dark witch's hair as her legs are set down onto the bed. Despite the glassy sheen in her eyes, the look she gives Bellatrix is reproachful and if one were looking especially hard, they might liken her expression to that of a pout.

"You're a beast, Bellatrix. Do you know that?"

Bellatrix is hardly deterred by the accusation. Instead she cackles, the cacophonous amusement making the hair on the back of Hermione's neck stand on end and her honeyed eyes widen, especially when coupled with the sudden presence of her lover, holding herself up to hover over of her, a wolfish grin standing out starkly against the shadows the curtain of her wild hair cast.

"Dig deep for the stamina, dearie. I've not finished with you yet."


	3. Greed

_**Greed** _

_****_ _“No matter how many times I have you, how often I see you, hear you, touch you, I will always crave more...”_

* * *

 

Hermione gasps for breath, the oxygen in the room seeming to have diminished as a result of her dark lover's proximity. Bellatrix is all she can focus on, it is a miracle that her heart even continues to beat. All she can see, all she can feel are those endless black curls, those obsidian eyes that are deeper than any ocean, those regal features, all that pale, alabaster skin. But it's more to it than that. Bellatrix is an enigma, the epitome of her namesake. A warrior. Her very presence consumes. And right now, the brunette knows she is going to be ravaged.

She has never wanted anything more.

Bellatrix captures one of her erect, reddened nipples into the warm wet cavern of her mouth and Hermione's head falls back as she groans low in her throat at the sensation. With her body already sensitive from the climax that had been wrenched from it, it feels as if bolts of lightning are forking through her veins. The dark haired witch growls as her tongue lavishes languid strokes over the nub, her hands grabbing, her nails scraping at quivering sweat dampened skin to keep her lover still. She focuses her attention on the other nipple and _bites_ down. Hard.

The brunette's lips part in a soundless scream as her hips jerk forward. The pain from the blunt edges of those teeth cuts through the haze of pleasure but also manages to add to it, infuse it with something dark and carnal that is _all_ Bella, that makes Hermione's thighs clench and her pulse speed. But that is what comes with being fucked by a witch like Bellatrix Black. She _takes_ what she wants, rather than give. And she is a greedy lover. Her sexual appetite is voracious, like a starving beast.

And Hermione loves it.

“Do you like that, pet?” Bellatrix's voice is low and guttural, almost a snarl as her glistening obsidian gaze meets her lover's pleasure filled hazels. She raises herself up, her biceps flexing as she trails heady, open mouthed kisses up the column of Hermione's throat, “Do you like what I do to you?”

By now, the sensitivity at her core has given way to need. She is desperate for another climax, her waist rolling upwards attempting to seek out friction where there is none. Because Bellatrix has positioned herself in such a way that there is no contact where Hermione needs it to be. She makes a pitiful sound of desperation, tilting her head to the side to give the dark witch better access to her throbbing pulse point.

Bellatrix nips her in retaliation, hard enough to sting but not enough to break skin. “I asked you a question.”

 _Yes_ ,” Hermione whimpers, her hands moving forward to clutch at sable curls to hold Bellatrix right there but her lover at the last second ducks out of the way and the brunette is left grabbing at air. “Bella, please!”

A chuckle, throaty in tone, is the immediate response. Followed by the lift of a perfectly arched brow and a decidedly puckish pout. “Please _what_ , pet? Oh, I'm so sorry. Did you want _more_?”

The fucking vixen. Hermione is growing frustrated now, her belly cramping with the need for release, the breathy sounds that escapes her parted mouth high and plaintive. She does not just _want_ more, she craves it. She aches for it. If Bellatrix does not properly touch her now, she doubts she would survive it.

“Please, please,” she begs, the plea naught but a choked sob as she writhes beneath her lover, "Touch me. _Fuck_ me. Please!”

She is not prepared for the sheet of ice that frosts Bellatrix's gaze in the next moment. The air in the room seems to evaporate and Hermione suddenly cannot freely draw breath into her lungs. It is Bellatrix's hand wrapped around her neck squeezing hard enough to leave bruises but not with enough force to completely cut off the flow of oxygen.

“You will wait, naughty girl. There's something I want to know first and it would be in your best interest not to lie to me.”

Hermione's heart skips a beat in her chest at the unspoken threat. True she loves Bella almost more than the next beat of her heart but still she knows to tread carefully when the beast, greedy for blood, has been unleashed.


End file.
